


Letters Unsent

by lmxlumiere



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Angst, But also, F/F, Freeform, GROWTH HENNY, Gayyyyyyy, High School AU, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Personal Growth, Sad, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23656447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmxlumiere/pseuds/lmxlumiere
Summary: ramblings and free writings on misguided thoughts and words unspokenunexpected endings and reflections on what could have beenreleased in the form of lettersor Tobin writes letters to get the words out that she never could. She was never good at words when it mattered. Only letting them spill over after a couple bottles of beer at 1 am.
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	Letters Unsent

I think about how it’s been 5 years

Since I last spoke to you

  
4 since I decided I need to stop glorifying my memories of you

  
3 since I accepted it for what it was-

  
That I was in love and didn’t know it; didn’t recognize it for what it was

  
Turned it around and manipulated it into what I thought love was about.

  
But now I think I understand it a little better

I thought being in love meant seeing you as perfect despite your flaws

  
Now I know being in love means loving everything even the things that should tick me off

  
Like the way you overanalyzed everything and cared too much about what your family thought.

  
I should have understood what was important to you instead of pushing you

When I think about what being in love must mean I can’t help but remember how your hands felt in mine like an instant calm, an affirmation of your presence-  
A hyper-awareness of you, where you were, how you talked to other people with that soft smile  
You were always polite and kind and never chaotic

  
How you watched me when I talked to other people and never acknowledged what it could have been.  
I’ve always been terrible at remembering personal things about other people. Most of our friends got used to it and made it into a joke that my head was always in other things. Played it off as I’m always just chill, a reliable friend who was always there. To them I wasn’t the friend to plan surprises or remember little things, but I was the friend who always showed up when I was needed.

  
It’s been 5 years since and I can’t stop thinking about how I remembered every story you told me and I noticed the little things about you. I was always aware. You had my attention like nothing or no one else had. A year since I stopped calling it a hyper-fixation and instead realized it was because I loved you. And I noticed.

The four count off beat of you dancing to country music at that tail gate with your family after I let you argue with me that the Band Perry is country because I refused to admit that I liked country music. Stubbornly refusing to admit that I liked the country songs you sent me because it put a smile on your face every time I eventually gave up. Now when someone asks me what music I’m into and I tell them what I can’t stand I have to admit that yes, some country music I love and it’s all very limited. Limited to the songs and artists you introduced me to.

I remember how much family meant to you and their opinion meant everything. I should have understood that it meant more than I should have bargained for. You were the only one of my friends I got closer to their family. Adding them on social media because it made you happy even though I didn’t give a crap about social media.

The way your hair curled from a drop of water. You hated it but I loved running my hand through it. I was never one of those who played with people’s hair. The first time you asked me to I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. But with your head on my lap how could I have said no?

Surrounded by our friends it just seemed like we were inseparable. An unlikely pair of best friends. I never really believed in those before you. Because admitting that was already too much, how could I think we could be more than that?

Your graduation party you held my hand under the table the entire night. Surrounded by friends exchanging yearbooks around the table. Both of us with one hand holding a pen and the other holding each other.

You were always better at facing reality than I was. I think now you held my hand more than you usually did that night because you know what it meant. You limited the days and I felt like we were endless as long as we put in the effort. I never really said goodbye, I always planned the next time I would see you. I was never the planner and always the spontaneous one in friendships. That should have told me as much, shouldn’t it have?

I should have noticed how when I was missing you I kept thinking how lucky other people were to be around you. Didn’t they know how beautiful it was to be in your presence?

I should have noticed how you were always the first person I thought to update with every little thing in my life and that ought to mean something. Not even best friends shared everything like we did.

But you saw it coming. You called me out for it and I denied how I felt. I didn’t know what love was all I knew was that I wanted to be around you and I wanted to be happy with you and I would have done anything for you. Sacrifice wasn’t supposed to be careless. I denied because the implication of what you said was more than about you and me. I was still lost and focused on traditional perfection like you. I could have thrown it all away for you and I would have.

You were always the more grounded of us two and I hated it because I felt like you didn’t want us enough. But your family was more important to you and I couldn’t give you the image of love that you grew up believing. All we had were backup plans of marriage at 60, inside jokes long forgotten, a world of our own desolate.

It’s been 5 years since I wrote something as long as this about you.

It’s been 4 since I stopped talking about you with our high school friends and saying “No, thanks” when they asked if I wanted to see your latest post. I think you would have been surprised to know that they were so supportive when I told them, more than you ever gave them credit for. You never did give them a chance either.

It’s been 3 years since I stopped denying who I was and started exploring what that could mean.

It’s been 2 since I stopped hiding who I was. I started reading those self-help books you never believed in. I started being unapologetic about being my authentic self. I stopped needing someone to check on me and started doing all the major things on my own. Life events that we would dream about. I always thought I could break our silence with joy and hopes of re-kindling from a new life, a new person I could present myself to you.

Now I realize that you were the first who showed me what love felt like. I didn’t recognize it then but I know it now and I’ll know how to handle it better when it next comes around.

I still sometimes dream of you walking back into my life, maybe if I ended up in your neighborhood again and accidentally crossed paths we could meet up for lunch. Or a mutual friend wedding invitation in the future.

We’re 2 different people now. I have my own place an hour away from home and a career in an industry I feel proud to be in. I made it through college and even got a minor on top of it all. I travel alone now – a stark difference from when I called you after an anxiety attack 6 years ago because I was driving on a tight, busy highway next to a 18-wheeler. It’s been a year since I stopped driving girls around and imagining it was you next to me. Sometimes when I drive alone I still imagine having your hand in mine.

I don’t know if you’ve checked on me since, but a part of me hopes that you have.

I hate that the version of me you know 5 years ago is not a version of myself I’m proud of. I’m proud that I can look back and recognize how much I’ve changed, though. I hope you would be proud of that, at least.


End file.
